A Sweet Remembrance
by wordsofawitheringwriter
Summary: A series of Soma oneshots. Latest one: Weapon and Meister pairs are not a thing to be taken lightly, but what happens when Maka and Liz have no choice but to work together? Will Maka be able to handle a weapon other than Soul? More importantly, how will Soul feel when he finds out about the end result involving his meister, his best friend, his Maka... Prompts welcome!
1. Trudge On

**Hello there! Hope you enjoy this little drabble. If you want you can come find me on Tumblr (same username). I'll be posting more writing on there before uploading them here(: **

**Summary: Soul is gone longer than expected when it begins to snow heavily. Maka gets worried and goes to look for him. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own these lovely characters nor the world in which they reside. **

* * *

"You i-idiot," the boy stutters, lips numb from the cold. "Why did you even come looking for me?"

"You're the idiot," she mumbles back defensively, hugging herself for warmth as the two trudge their way through the ankle-deep (and still falling) snow on their way back home. "I told you the weather was getting bad. Your stupid hair gel could have waited until morning but _nooo_."

"I was f-fine out here!"

"Well how was I supposed to know that! You said five minutes and I waited a half hour. For all I knew you could have been stuck under a fallen tree!"

"A bit dramatic," Soul mutters while gripping his jacket tighter against him and stuffing his mitten-clad hands deeper into his pockets. "The store I usually buy it from was closed," he grumbles in explanation. "So I thought I could beat the snow and get to the one across town in time but," he shrugs his shoulders, annoyed, "they were closed too."

"Seems like _they_ had some common sense."

"Did you come try and find me just to gripe at me the whole way home?"

Maka bowed her head to try and avoid the wind hitting her face directly.

"You didn't come home, ass." She frowns. "I didn't know what happened. We don't get snow like this often and you didn't exactly come out here prepared."

Soul kicks at some of the snow as they continued their trek.

"Thanks for bringing my jacket, by the way." He grumbles, scolding himself for only wearing a sweatshirt out.

He sweeps his eyes over to the girl beside him, and with her hair in it's usual ponytail hairstyle he could easily see where from the cold her ears were as red as his toboggan.

Maka looks up when she feels something being tugged over her head. Soul made sure to take extra care in making sure her ears were covered.

"Grip onto my jacket so we don't get separated," he sighs while stepping in front of her. "With my hair and this snow you'd have a hard time spotting me."

He shoots an easy grin over his shoulder and Maka smiles, grateful that he's acting as a windbreaker. However grateful she may feel though, she shakes her head. This isn't right.

Instead of grabbing onto his jacket like she was told, she opts for linking their arms and walking side by side.

"I appreciate the chivalry," she teases, grinning despite the chill. It's so cold that smiling hurts her teeth. "But last time I checked we're a team. Now come on," she pulls him, quickening their pace. "Our heated apartment is calling my name."


	2. The Bachelor's Life for Me

**So I've decided instead of posting a million individual oneshots like I intended, I would just post them as a sort of _series_ of oneshots experiencing happenings in the lives of one of our favorite meister/weapon duos. Almost none of them will be continuing on from one to the next, unless it's a short two or three parter (though don't take my word on that, I happen to change my mind a lot). **

**Anyways, hope you enjoy(: **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**(the song lyrics in italics at the beginning are from Dave Barnes's ~On a Night Like This~. This is NOT a song fic, however... If you have the time you should really check the song out though). **

**Summary: ****Soul doesn't think he's cut out for anything other than the life of a bachelor. Maka thinks he's wrong. Soma. **

* * *

_On a night like this_  
_I could fall in love_  
_I could fall in love with you_

In this dark so dense  
We talk so soft  
The way young lovers do

The lights are dimly lit as the people in attendance allow the newly married couple the entirety of the dance floor as they share their first dance as husband and wife.

Soul sits reclined in his seat with his dress shirt now untucked, one arm thrown over the back of his chair. He leans over to where Maka sits beside him, elbows on the tablecloth and her head resting on folded hands.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for the whole "tied down" thing, you know?"

Maka momentarily looks away from the floor to the boy, cocking her head.

"Hmm?"

He shrugs. "I just think being a bachelor is way cooler. Not having to worry about remembering anniversaries or birthdays or anything like that…"

"You remember my birthday."

Soul glances at the blonde. "Well yeah, but you're my meister."

"That doesn't mean you have to remember. Black*Star forgets Tsubaki's."

"_That was one time_." Said boy hisses from the table next to them, crossing his arms and grumbling as his weapon giggles beside him.

The two ignore their friend's interruption.

"It's different though," the white-haired teen whispers, knowing now the tendency of eavesdroppers.

"How so?" She plays along, whispering back in return.

"I don't know…" he trails off, tapping his fingers against the white tablecloth. "You're _Maka_."

"And you're Soul." The girl grins. "So you don't think that one day you'll find that someone special?"

At his lack of response, Maka returns her attention back to the reception, gazing fondly as their two teachers sway to the rhythm of the playing record in the middle of the dance floor.

"It's a really pretty song," she muses softly, "but I still wish that you would have played instead."

Soul blushes, clearing his throat and trying to play it off. "I don't think my kind of music is exactly the best kind for a first dance."

"I think you're wrong." She says simply, her eyes never leaving the white material of Miss Marie's dress.

The boy grins softly, chuckling as he too now watches as the two adults mesh so well together as they share a moment that so few get to experience anymore.

"Their souls look beautiful right now." Maka hums beside him, leaning closer to him, caught up in the moment.

He swallows hard, briefly caught off guard but quickly regains composure. He winds his arms around her chair and she scoots closer.

She looks up at him with those green eyes, and as the song comes down to the final chords she asks softly, "Still so sure you'll never want what they have now?"

Soul smirks lazily down at her, joining in on the light applause as the record comes to an end.

"I think I could be persuaded."


	3. Drowsy Mornings

**Maka wears herself out studying for an upcoming final and Soul decides she deserves a break. **

**Disclaimer. Still in possession of none of these lovely characters **

* * *

Soul yawns widely, rubbing at his tired eyes still swollen from sleep. He pads softly out of his room, shivering as he walks barefoot on the hardwood on his way to the kitchen. Stretching his arms up and behind his head, something by the window makes him pause.

"Aww man," he says, rubbing his neck. "Idiot," he berates softy, but had anyone else been awake they could not have denied the fond tone found in his raspy morning voice.

Walking over to the couch he picks up a discarded shirt that must have fallen from the laundry, and he sniffs it to make sure it's clean. Questionable, but he shrugs, figuring he's planning on jumping in the shower before class anyway. _Besides_, he thinks with a sigh, _the scar still bothers her_.

Yeah, he could deal with a questionable T-shirt to avoid the look on her face whenever she sees the healed, stitched area across his chest.

_Take it one day at a time_, he reminds himself as he crosses the floor of their living room, now a bit more alert than before._ She'll get there eventually_.

Soul stops when he gets to where his meister had seemingly fallen asleep the night before, cheek resting against folded arms as scattered books lay in front of her on the coffee table.

"That can't be comfortable," he mumbles, kneeling now beside the blonde. Gently he grips her shoulder, giving her a slight shake.

"Maka, hey Maka."

She tries shrugging him off, and he thinks he can make out a muffled, "go away", though that could be putting it nicely.

"Come on, babe. We have class soon."

Keeping her eyes closed, she swats at his hand. "Don't call me that."

He chuckles. Calling her 'babe' is as natural as calling Black*Star 'dude', hell, he's even called Tsubaki babe before.

Maka hates it though, and he's always threatened to receive a book spine coming into contact with his cranium when he says it, but it's worth it to see her get riled up.

"You work too hard," he mumbles as he closes the open book by her head and begins to organize the mess of notebooks and pens and scrap paper. "You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep going like this."

"It's worth it," she sits up slowly, rubbing her sore neck and he notices the large red spot on her cheek formed from resting on her arm all night. Her eyes still aren't completely open, he notes. "If I want to beat Ox in final next week then I have to study."

"Worth killing yourself over?" He lifts a brow, his arms full of books as he walks back towards the kitchen, but if he has to admit it he's pretty used to her stubborn ways. "Maka, you're the top of our class. The only time Ox ever beats you is if you make a stupid mistake or freak out about it too bad."

At her lack of response, he sets the books down on the kitchen table and pads over to the fridge, deciding he would take over breakfast duty this morning.

"Besides, even if he beats you on paper, we're ten times more useful in battle."

With a glance back to the couch, he smirks when he sees Maka now curled up on the couch, hugging one of the pillows they keep on the ends, sound asleep.

Cracking an egg on the side of a bowl, he shakes his head, glancing at the keys to his bike laying on the counter.

"Don't worry, Maka." He mumbles to himself, already formulating a plan in his head of the day ahead, and those plans did _not _involve going to class. "I won't let your hair turn white just yet. Besides," he grins, "it wouldn't be cool if we matched."


	4. To Help Me Overcome (Wheelchair AU 1)

**Thank you so much for the feedback on this little thing(: especially to randomcat23 for reviewing every chapter so far! And to Lillia Enchanted and ThatCrazyGuyDownTheAlley as well, I really appreciate it(:**

**This one is a tad different, and will be a mini AU series-type thing that I'll post every now and then. More so just an AU instance that I'll post from time to time and elaborate on. **

**Feel free to send in a prompt(:**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Also, any mentioned relationships I may write besides Soma [such as Marie and Stein in the wedding one] aren't necessarily canon nor my own otp, just simply what I feel suits the chapter/story thing best at the time(: (though that's not to say I don't ship other characters in the Soul Eater world) Sorry for the confusion Lillia! **

* * *

**An accident has left Maka confined to a wheelchair and she has a hard time accepting this. So does Soul. **

"Maka," Soul's whole expression softens, hand falling onto her shoulder. "_Maka_." He can find no other words to say, feeling as lost as the girl before him looks.

"I'm in a damn _chair_, Soul," she sobs, not being able to help it. Her hands are clenched tightly in her lap and her head is bowed. "Go away."

He swallows hard, bending down and kneeling in front of her.

"I can help-"

"Help me?" She laughs without anything being funny. "You're _damn right_ you're going to help," her shoulders shake as she cries harder, "because now I can't even get out of my _bed_ by myself." She puts her hands down and grips the wheels attached to her chair. "I even get tired just pushing this thing down the hallway!"

Soul's hands tremble as he takes in the appearance of his meister so completely broken.

"We'll get through it though," he says softly, weakly. Maybe it wasn't cool for someone's voice to sound like his right now, but Soul couldn't find it in him to care. "The doctor said you could walk again one day." He purposefully leaves out the crucial "maybe" that followed the doctor's original statement. "With enough therapy-"

Maka, her own hands shaking, cuts his off without saying anything. She doesn't have to, because he can read her face. Maka reaches out slowly, sniffing as she raises her head. Tears continue to stream from her green eyes as she offers him her hand.

"_Soul_," she says through clenched teeth, trying desperately to get the message across without actually having to say it. Despite it all, she's still stubborn and proud.

The boy locks eyes, crimson searching verdant, and he places his hand in hers. She grips it tight, and he nods. Message read loud and clear.

_I'm scared too, Maka. _He keeps this to himself.

"One day at a time," he says firmly now, reminding them both as he squeezes her hand. She sniffs and wipes at her eyes with her free hand, becoming more herself.

"Yeah," she nods, refusing to look down at her lap where her own legs have betrayed her.

"Besides," Soul smirks, standing back up and going around to the back of her chair, briefly pausing before gripping the handles. "You haven't fulfilled your promise to me yet."

He can't see her face, but he just _knows_ there's a smile, or at least a small grin, on her face.

"Yeah," she says softly, turning her head to peer back at him. "Hope you don't mind if you have to wait a little longer than we thought."

He shrugs. "I know I'll be a Death Scythe one day. Let's just get you back to walking first."

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Feel free to send in prompts(:


	5. Bloody Mary? More Like Bloody Maka

**Another quick little drabble that I hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything**

*****Holden Caulfield, for those of you who may not have read Catcher in the Rye, is the main character of the book(: **

* * *

Soul stands feet apart on the line, memorizing the feel of tiny bumps on the rubber and setting his fingers up carefully over the indented lines. He bounces the ball once, twice, three times before spinning it in his hands.

"Would you _please_ hurry up?" Black*Star groans from near the basket, used to his friend's foul shot routine but choosing to whine anyway.

"Yeah, yeah," Soul smirks, bouncing it once more for good measure. He brings the ball up and lets it glide off of his finger tips as it sails towards the basket, making a satisfactory _swoosh _as it makes it in.

Black*Star reaches his arms up and catches underneath, stepping behind the line as everyone began to run to the other side of the court. The blue-haired boy throws it into himself, and normally this is illegal, but the others are used to his way of doing things by now.

Jogging down the court, he scans the teams to see who is open. He makes to pass to Kid before realizing Soul is coming up from behind.

"_Maka_," he shouts, throwing it in a hard pass to his unsuspecting friend standing underneath the basket who was too busy looking forlornly at the bench where her open book lay. "Catch!"

"What?" She asks, looking up just a second to late. Her hands come flying up to cup her now bleeding nose after the ball bounces off her face.

"Damn it, Black*Star," she groans, "That hurt!"

"Pay attention then!" He retorts, grinning. "A man as strong as me should have everyone's attention at all times anyway!"

"Yeah yeah," the blonde grumbles, "wanna-be god and all that."

Realizing the game is currently paused, Soul walks across the court to where Maka stands pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the blood flow.

"You're not a dog, stupid," he teases. "Catch it with your hands, not your mouth."

Maka frowns, unamused. "It's my nose that's bleeding, not my lip, you ass."

He chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, okay, but maybe if you would stop worrying about your precious Holden Caulfield* over there for two seconds then you wouldn't end up getting nailed in the face."

"Your sympathy level is truly astounding, Soul." She says in a flat voice, sarcasm one-hundred percent intended. "Really, you shouldn't worry so much."

He shrugs, "Basketballs hurt, yeah, but they aren't deadly. You'll probably have a nice shiner from that, but I can handle seeing a black eye better than I can if you get distracted like that in battle."

She waves him off, "I've gotten better at focusing."

Soul stares at her, and she frowns. "Okay, yeah well if you ignore the past five minutes anyway."

He chuckles, holding his hand up in a fist which she bumps with her own.

"So you good?"

"Yeah," she grins, "but does this mean I can stop playing now?"

"No way!" Black*Star, ever the eavesdropper, pipes up. "We're behind now thanks to Soul's stupid free throws. The game isn't over until Black*Star comes out as winner!"

"You heard the god," Soul smirks, nodding towards the others. "Leave the book out of this, because if we're really playing until you guys get ahead then we'll be here for a while."

"I'll show you, big shot!" Black*Star picks up the ball from where it had rolled under the basket.

"You're on, show off!" Soul grins, sharp teeth visible as he jogs back to his position. Maka watches after him, shaking her head after making sure the blood had stopped.

"Sorry Holden," she grins, "I've got another whiny protagonist to attend to first."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! I have a lot of fun writing these, so prompts are always welcome(:**


	6. Shared Pasta and Cheerful Conversation

**This is a bit longer than the usual 600-660ish things I've been shooting out lately. It's a modern day teacher AU so I hope I've done it justice and you all enjoy(:**

**Also, this chapter is rated T due to a few uses of various curse words used throughout **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

His footsteps echo too loudly against the linoleum floor, the fluorescent lighting too harsh against his still sensitive eyes. He usually puts so much effort into being professional but he just _had_ to listen to fucking Wes of all people and go out for drinks on a school night. He ducked his head as he passed the front office, knowing full well his hair color made it hard to remain unnoticed but he had hope that luck would be on his side.

For him, the stars must have been aligned because no annoying red-head vice principle decided to poke his head out and get onto him for being tardy.

The man decided not to try his luck too far though, and picked up his pace on the way to his classroom on the second floor.

Standing outside of the classroom, even with the door shut he could hear the low hum of conversation from the other side.

"You could still turn around and play hooky." He mutters, but tucks in his white dress shirt even while saying this to himself. "No one's seen you yet." The young man pulls at his pinstripe pants, adjusting the belt as he gripped the strap of his messenger bag tightly.

He stands with his hand on the doorknob, letting his head fall.

"I really hate Mondays."

* * *

"So, anyone have any questions?" Soul leans against the corner of his desk, hands in his pockets as he leaves the PowerPoint up on the board. His students sit hunched over behind their own desks, various pens and pencils scratching against paper as they scramble to finish their notes.

A girl in the back with a long black ponytail raises her hand.

Soul lifts his chin at her. "Yes, Tsubaki?"

She twists the pencil between her fingers as the blue-haired boy beside her naps away; Soul wouldn't be surprised if his notes were ruined now from the drool, that is if he even did them in the first place.

"Will we have homework over this tonight?" She asks carefully, as if afraid of the answer.

"Well," Soul says slowly, trying to see where this was going. "I was kinda planning on assigning-"

A collective groan rings throughout the classroom, and a few kids even drop their heads dejectedly against their desks.

"What's with you guys?" The man frowns at the room of teenagers, "I mean I know no one _enjoys_ homework. I mean neither do I considering I'm the one who has to actually grade everyth-"

"It's not that," the blue-haired boy, Black*Star, says wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Soul saw how he rubbed at his side and silently thanks Tsubaki for constantly keeping that kid alert.

"Tell me then," the man grins, crossing his arms, "what excuse do I have to hear now explaining why you don't deserve one little half hour assignment tonight?" Soul was used to hearing exaggerated stories and reasons from Black*Star as to why homework was seemingly absurd, but he still enjoyed humoring the kid.

"Because that new English teacher they hired!" The boy frowns, "She's only been here a week and already assigned books for a stupid report due after the weekend!"

Soul blinks. "It's Monday. You have a whole week."

"They're fucking _novels_!"

The teacher sighs, "Dude, we've talked about the language. It's not cool to curse in front of girls, remember? At least not in my class."

"Yeah yeah, all about chivalry or something like that, but _come on._" After digging around in his bag, he holds up a copy of a book that Soul has to admit does look a bit intimidating.

Regardless, "Guys, I can't control what other teachers do. I have to do my job and make sure you're learning the curriculum-"

"But sir-"

_I swear if _one_ more of these kids cuts me off _one_ more time, _Soul thinks as a kid goes on to explain something or other. His head is still hurting too bad to get a grip on this whole thing. It's not uncommon for students to complain about one teacher to another, but still, he'd been a kid once too. Hell, he _was_ one of them only a couple years ago.

"Okay okay," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the oncoming migraine he could feel beating behind his eyes. "I'll try talking to…"

"Her name is Ms. Albarn." Ever helpful Tsubaki fills in for him.

"But be careful bro, she may be a pain in the ass but she's pretty hot. Not my type, but you probably go for the whole pleated skirt thing."

"Black*Star," Soul sighs, "you're lucky my head hurts today."

* * *

The students had told him Ms. Albarn's class was just down the hall from his own, so it makes him feel pretty shitty that he hadn't bothered to say hello in the entire week she'd been here.

He stands outside her door now, the kids dismissed for lunch and it being the teacher's plan period. Shifting weight from foot to foot, he goes back and forth on figuring out what he's even going to say. He can't tell her how to do her job, but he also doesn't want to help be responsible for messing up the mental health of his students as they stress over homework every night. Because despite whether they like it or not, he _will_ have to assign it at some point.

He sighs, "'kay," he mumbles, resting a fist on the wooden door and preparing to knock. "Just stay cool, it'll be okay."

"Can I help you?" He refrains from jumping as a voice comes from behind him, and he turns to see a young woman about his age, holding a steaming dish in her hands that she mush have warmed up in the teacher's lounge.

He's caught off guard by her eyes, which are not only the most vibrant shade of green he's ever seen, but also so _big_. Her hair is blonde and falls straight, resting just below her shoulders.

"I um…" _Stupid_, he thinks, _you've just met her and you're already stuttering. How so very cool of you_. "Hi." He grins, trying to make up for his slipup and leave her with a good first impression. "I'm Soul Evans. My classroom is-"

"Right down the hall, right?" She nods her head in the direction of his room. She smiles back. "I've seen you around before."

Sheepishly, and feeling significantly like an ass, he clears his throat. "Yeah, sorry about that. I should have come and said something sooner. Sorry to be rude."

"Not at all," she says cheerfully, a soft pink shade appearing on her cheeks. She points to the door behind him. "But um, if you don't mind, we only have about fifteen minutes before lunch ends. Would it be okay if we continue this little exchange inside so I can eat?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem." He turns the handle and holds the door open for her, trying to ignore the pleated skirt that, true to his word, Black*Star had mentioned earlier.

"So, Mr. Evans," she says after thanking him for holding the door open for her. She takes a seat behind her desk and opens the plastic container holding her meal. "I take it you didn't just stop by for a friendly hello?"

"My kids don't even call me Mr. Evans," the man grins, starting to feel more at ease as he takes a seat in on the of student's desks. "Call me Soul."

Her head tilts, and she looks amused. "Maka."

His crimson eyes travel the space of the room, and he grins at the board.

"Been here a week and you still have your name written on the board like a sub?"

She blushes, pulling at her white cardigan. "I've come in the middle of the year. Just allowing the kids to settle in better, is all."

"Speaking of the kids settling in better…" Soul says, finding his entry point to the main reason he'd even decided to make an appearance in the first place. Though after actually meeting her, he can't believe it took him a whole _week_.

She twists some pasta around on her fork and the smell makes Soul's stomach growl.

Maka frowns, just now noticing how he wasn't eating. "Are you skipping lunch?"

He shrugs. "The food they serve here shouldn't be fed to prisoners, let alone growing teenagers. I prefer to avoid it if I can. Normally I just snack on a granola bar until the day ends and _then_ go grab lunch somewhere."

She considers this, looks down at her plastic bowl and back at him.

"I have an extra fork, you know. And there are paper plates in the teacher's lounge. We could share."

Soul shakes his head. "I couldn't steal your lunch."

She laughs, "I always pack too much anyway. Seriously," she holds up her fork with the past wrapped around it. "One thing you'll learn about me is that I am an _excellent_ cook."

Soul smirks, "Cockiness, huh? Can't say I would have expected that from the new English teacher."

"No?" She asks, lifting a brow with a smirk of her own pulling at her lips.

"But if you absolutely insist on me dining with you-"

"Which I most obviously am."

"Sarcasm too, now?"

She shrugs. "I'm full of surprises."

"Is that another thing I'm going to learn?"

Maka grins, "Depends if you stick around."

That's how, one trip to the teacher's lounge later, the two are laughing over a plate of shared pasta which Soul later gives compliments to the chef on. They both exchange stories on troublesome students and the ridiculous comments and questions they get in class. They spend the entirety of their plan period sharing Black*Star stories and Soul warning her that he only becomes more elaborate as the days go on.

"But he's pretty endearing," she laughs, her tone fond. "I'm not sure if I'd want anything different during class, minus the complaint from time to time."

At the mention of complaints, Soul is suddenly reminded of his entire reason of stopping by.

But she's smiling so wide, her cheeks have been flushed for the past five minutes, and it's been so nice to talk to someone besides just teenagers. He doesn't want to offend her by coming to her with students' complaints.

It might be a little difficult, and will take a little more effort in teaching on his part, but he can hold off on giving homework for a week if it means sharing pasta and making the new teacher laugh for a little while longer.


	7. Save Me from the Recoil

**So due to some things going on in real life I wasn't able to partake in Soma week like I had wanted ): but I still loved the prompts and it gave me an idea for a new little two parter. So without further ado, here's Part 1. Hope you like it!**

**[[ I will be doing a continuation of Just Out of Reach, so be on the look out for that(: ]]**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

Save Me From the Recoil

"Maka and sissy have been gone for a while now," Patti frowns at the kitty clock hanging on the wall, most likely put up by Blair, but the blonde felt as though the smirking object was mocking her as the hands ticked away. She pulls at Kidd's sleeve, "Maybe we should go look for them."

"They _just_ left like fifteen minutes ago, Patti," Black*Star says from where he's lounging on Soul's sofa.

"The shop is over by the school, so they'll probably be a little longer." Tsubaki offers from where she's sitting on her knees, sipping on tea at the coffee table. Soul frowns from where he's leaned against the window, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs, only Maka would invite everyone over for dinner and then forget the actual dinner part.

_You're already so damn stressed about finals_, Soul thinks, _now you've invited everyone for dinner._ _Why the hell do you put so much pressure on yourself?_

"It would have been quicker if I had gone. I'd have already been there and back and on the way for a second trip!" Black*Star gloats, flipping through channels.

"If you're so sufficient then why would it take two trips?" Kidd grins, always enjoying being able to spur the eccentric meister on. However, he doesn't look away from the portrait Maka had hung that was _perfectly symmetrical_.

When she first brought it home, Soul had asked why she decided to get it in the first place, and she'd replied that maybe it would make Kidd feel better when he saw how _unsymmetrical_ the rest of their apartment was.

"I just like everyone feeling at home." She had smiled as she gazed proudly at how straight she had managed to hang the portrait, fists on her hips. She had then turned and began to walk in the direction of her room, waving to him over her shoulder and saying she was going to study. Soul was left glancing between the painting and his meister's back, not understanding one bit, but finding that she was pretty damn cool anyway.

_"Because_ Kidd, one trip would be for dinner and the other would be for dessert! But," the blue-haired teen grins now, "I guess I could make the dessert runs individually."

The young reaper frowns, doing the math in his head, trying to figure out the reasoning behind the tone of his friend's voice.

Then it clicked.

"NO! THAT WOULD BE _SEVEN_ TRIPS, BLACK*STAR. GET TWO FOR YOUR BIG MOUTH SO IT'LL BE EIGHT."

Meanwhile Soul thumps his head gently against the window, crossing his fingers his meister and Liz will be back soon.

* * *

"Sorry for tagging along, Maka." Liz stretches her arms over her head, bringing her hands down to massage her temples. "I know you were probably looking forward to the peace and quiet, but I just had to get out of there."

Maka smiles, "It's not a problem, Liz. I appreciate the extra hands. There's no way I could carry everything by myself."

The taller girl smiles at her pigtailed friend, thankful she hadn't been annoyed by her pretty much insisting on coming along.

"I mean," Liz begins, "I love Kid and Patti but sometimes, if I'm around them for too long-"

"You feel like you wanna strangle them with their own headband?"

Liz laughs, "That sounds more like a Soul-specific thing, but a more personalized version for my two, yes."

The duo continue in light conversation, exchanging stories of the grief they have to go through with their respective partners, and laugh when Maka mentions that maybe Tsubaki should have tagged along too for the venting.

"Black*Star is an old friend of mine," Maka muses, fondly. "We've known each other ever since we were young, but there's no way I'd have the patience with him that Tsuibaki does."

"She's definitely a keep-"

A shrill scream echoes through the allies and reverberates off the cobblestone walkways.

Maka's eyes narrow, her face setting in a determined expression while Liz fought to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Don't worry, that's not the kind of scream someone makes from seeing a ghost."

Liz frowns, "Wait, how do you know I'm afraid of-"

Maka offers a sheepish grin, "Meisters have to vent sometimes too. You really have to tell me about the pyramids sometime, I've always wanted to visit Egypt!"

Grabbing the blonde's wrist before she could reply, Maka pulls her in the direction of the screaming.

"But we aren't partners!" Liz's brows furrow in concern. "What if it's a kishin and I have to transform? Don't you think it'd be smarter if we go back for the others?"

"Not enough time!" Maka argues as they keep running. "What if it's gone by the time we get back? As students of the academy we can't willingly let a kishin run free. Besides, it took us forever to get here, it would take double that time if we go back for the others."

"Well it seems like we're making pretty good time now." Liz grumbles, then frowns, remembering her first day at said academy. "But wait, you could get hurt if you use me! Kid can handle me because we're partners, but Maka, my recoil is a _bitch_."

"I can handle it!" The girl says, determined, her mind already made up.

She pulls them to a sudden stop in the mouth of a dark ally, their sneakers skidding on loose pebbles.

Liz groans at the slobbering, bulky figure hunched by the dumpster.

"Hungry hobo?" She asks, hopeful.

Maka's response is deadpan. "It's floating."

"I know.' She whines, already transforming and falling heavily into the girl's waiting hands.

The meister grunts at the unexpected weight, but shapes her hand around the cool metal accordingly, finger on the trigger.

"Okay Liz," she whispers to the weapon, "Let's take down a kishin."

* * *

Soul's ears perk at the sound of knocking on the door.

"About damn time!" Black*Star groans, stomach growling as if on cue.

"They must have bought quite a bit," Tsubaki muses, standing. "I'll go help them bring everything in."

"I'll go too!" Penni all but skips to the long-haired girl's side.

Soul thumps his head back against the glass, rubbing his tired eyes with a fist as he yawns.

"Have a nice nap?" Kidd smirks, turning his eyes back to the station Black*Star had chosen, cheek resting on his fist.

Before the teen could answer, however, he was cut off by the sound of Tsubaki's gasp being drowned out by Patti's shrill scream.

The boys all jump into action, spurred on my Black*Star's demand of, "_What the hell?_"

"_Liz!_" Patti wails, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister's waist.

"Patti, I'm fine." The older sister wraps her arms around the smaller girl, accepting her hug and trying to keep from shaking.

"Liz, are you okay?" Kidd demands, searching for any visible damage. "Patti, why did you scream?"

"I'm okay," one part of the dual twin pistols replies, her voice shaky. The boys are taken back by the tears welling up in her eyes suddenly. "But Maka-"

"Soul," Tsubaki's voice comes from just outside the door, breaking Liz off and sounding worried. "Soul you need to come here. _Now_."

* * *

**Part 2 coming soon!**


	8. You're Mine to Worry Over

**Okay, so it took a few more days than I was originally intending, but hey at least its posted before the week was over! (Optimism is so hard sometimes…) Anyway, it's late and I'm exhausted, so I hope you all enjoy Part 2**

* * *

"You're such a fucking idiot," he sighs, berating the scraped and bleeding girl perched on the bathroom counter in front of him.

"I'm sorry." Maka repeats, already having said it so many times since Liz had all but carried her back. She had lost count of how many times she'd uttered the phrase since Soul had finally managed to wake her up. It felt as if the word was beginning to lose its meaning.

He stopped brushing the loose gravel away from her jawline, opting instead to run a calloused thumb gently across his meister's scuffed cheek.

"Why didn't you two just come back?" He asks, and she could hear the hurt in his voice. She could _feel_ the doubt in his soul, causing his usual aura to stir and twist and she knew how much she'd scared him. "We could have made it back in time before it could run too far."

She shakes her head."You don't know that."

He offers a slight grin in response, bringing his hand down from her cheek and opting instead to rest both of them on the countertop on either side of her.

"Sure I do."

Maka only shakes her head again, and the boy sighs, stepping away momentarily to grab a cotton swab and a bottle of peroxide.

"Liz was right you know," she mutters, wincing slightly when the medicine comes into contact with a particularly deep scratch. "Her recoil is a _bitch_."

Soul chuckles, wiping his hands on a spare washcloth that had been tossed sometime earlier.

"Well," he title his head in a so-so manner, as if what he's about to say is the obvious. "I guess you're a scythe wielder for a reason."

Can't get much more obvious than that, Maka figures.

He taps the girl's knee two times, letting her know he was finished playing doctor for the night.

"Go ahead and get changed," he instructs. "I'll warm up leftovers for dinner."

"I'm sorry our original plans fell through."

Soul shrugs. "To be honest, I wasn't too thrilled about the party idea anyway. You worry too much. Besides," he smirks, "Black*Star was more than thrilled about getting to try and take out a kishin before Kidd."

"They went after the kishin?"

"Well yeah," he said this with an implied _duh_ in his tone. "Now, go get changed, I'll heat up dinner, and then you're telling me what the hell you've been acting so weird about over the past few days."

She reaches out and manages to catch his wrist as he turns and heads for the door. "Weird?"

He scoffs, "First the party offer so close to finals followed by a reckless fight? Maka," he gives her a _really now?_ expression.

She says nothing, but allows him to slip out of her hold. He leaves her alone and she listens to his footsteps as he pads to the kitchen and allows herself a small grin when he drops what sounds like a pan and follows it up with a shory string of profanity.

With a sigh, Maka slowly slides off of the countertop, grimacing when she lands and the slight drop jars her sore back.

"I'm sorry." She repeats softly one more time to no one, and for no reason other than good measure.

Soul always take such good care of her, won't he eventually get tired of constantly having to play the human shield? Maka felt uneasy once she finally managed to leave their shared bathroom, unpleasant thoughts and possibilities overwhelming her as she closed the door to her room behind her.

She wasn't sure if it was the side effects of the pain medication Tsubaki had instructed Soul to give her, or if it was the sudden crippling thought of Soul accepting one the many offers from meisters at the academy, but she had to bite down on her fist to keep from screaming in frustration.

Her sob gets caught in her throat, hating the total lack of control she felt at the moment. How could she have been so stupid as to fight with a weapon she wasn't even familiar with? She dealt with _blades_, and has never even shot a fucking gun _once_ before today.

Rolling her shoulders back, she refused to let herself cry like a little girl. She had outgrown that, and just because she was upset now was no excuse. Tears were reserved for loss, not the possibility of it.

Instead, she resorts to something similar to autopilot as she carefully strips her dirty, bloodstained clothing from her skin and changed into a tank top and a pair of sweats she figured probably got mixed in their laundry.

She had to roll the waistband a few times so she wouldn't trip over the bottoms, and was just opening her door when she heard the microwave beep.

Soul glances at her over his shoulder when he hears her padding barefoot towards the kitchen.

"So that's where those went," he smirks when he notices the sweatpants. "Keep 'em. They were getting a little small for me anyway."

"Thanks," she mumbles, and he doesn't frown at her off behavior but she can still sense his caution.

"So," he says, proportioning out their dinner, and she ignores how her's looks bigger.

She takes the plate without objection, following her weapon to the couch where he flips on the TV.

"So," he repeats, laying his plate down on the table and ignoring it completely. He doesn't look at her as she sits beside him, he rests his head against the back of the couch and gazes lazily at the screen.

"I could be a gentleman and tell you to take your time and tell me when you're ready," he lifts his pointer finger as if ticking off a list, "but I know you, and we'd be here all night.

"Or two," he continued, lifting another finger. "You tell me now, and save me the hours of waiting watching shitty nighttime reruns."

The girl scrapes her fork across the bottom of the plate, not hungry but embracing the distraction.

"Maka?"

She stabs a piece of chicken, swirling it around in the bright orange sauce before letting it slide off her fork.

"M-"

"_Because_," she cuts him off, resisting the temptation to yell like she normally would. She was sore, frustrated, and just feeling so damn _guilty_. "You have so many meister options, that's what's bothering me."

She doesn't look up at him.

He snorts, "Are you serio-"

"_Yes_," she cuts him off sharply, finally looking up at him.

He gazes back levelly, as if sizing her up. He nods once, though, still partly wary with what seems to be disbelief. "Okay," he agrees, "You're serious. I'm still confused with what that has to do with you acting weird."

"You have so many options," Maka repeats, dropping her gaze to her hands. "Being a Death Scythe, an attractive and reckless one at that, makes you an obvious choice to anyone with a brain."

A beat of silence then, "You think I'm attractive?"

She blushes, but refuses to let him see. "I think you're an ass, is what I think."

He grins. "So, what's your point behind all of this? I feel like my meister's pity parter goes a little deeper than just worrying about her weapon's fine ass."

"Remind me later that I owe you a chop."

Soul shrugs, "I've been due for a while."

Abandoning the idea of eating, she sets her plate beside his on the table. Folding her legs underneath her, Maka grabs one of their end pillows and hugs it against her chest. She rests her head against his shoulder so he can't see her face as she asks, "What if one day you take someone up on their offer?"

"I mean," she says hurriedly before he could reply. The last thing Maka wanted from this conversation was to put ideas in her (he was _her_ weapon, dammit) partner's head. "Tsubaki and Black*Star will most likely always be partners because she knows how to deal with his behavior, and he's the only one capable to wield her sword form. Sam goes for Kidd. But Soul," she does her best to swallow the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. "It's stupid and naive for me to think you'll only ever be _my_ weapon. But when that does happen, where does that leave me?"

"Maka-"

"No," she's on a roll now, and there was no way she was going to allow him to interrupt her until she's said her piece. "I mean it. I'm the meister I am because I've had you in my hand from the very beginning, which was made even more painfully obvious by what happened today." Maka grips the pillow tighter, hiding her face in his shoulder. "There are stronger, less reckless people misters who you won't have to waste your nights taking care of because they've gotten hurt in some stupid way." She gestures to the largest band-aid he'd had t apply right below her hairline. "You're gonna find a partner who you don't have to constantly worry over."

Soul repositions his arm, dropping it from resting of the back of the couch to now pulling the girl tighter against his side. Maka figures he's just trying to be comforting.

"Maybe I don't want anyone else worrying about you."

She looks up. "What do you mean?"

He flicks one of her pigtails with his free hand. "Being the one to bandage you up is kinda nice, and something I've gotten pretty good at over the years." He grins. "I mean, you've given me a lot of practice."

"I-"

"Shut up," he knocks his shoulder with hers. "I'm not done." Soul looks back to the TV screen, not really watching. "I get offers, yeah, but Maka, you _do_ realize that you're the one I have to thank for even being a Death Scythe in the first place, right? Before I met you, back before I got involved in any of this, I was never exactly in high demand. The me that they want, the _weapon_ that they want, they have you to thank for. After all," he smirks, "what has the academy beaten into our heads since day one?"

Maka grins, wincing when the action jars her split lip. "A meister is only as strong as their weapon-"

"And vice versa." Soul finishes the rule, more or less, for her with a toothy grin. He removes his arm momentarily from around her and offer her his hand, palm up.

Sheepishly, she accepts his gesture.

"I can't promise that I'll never be assigned to someone else on a mission, but _you're_ my partner." He grips her hand for emphasis.

Maka smiles, "Your flat chested partner with the fat ankles?"

Soul groans, glaring, "Can we please let that go? Stop holding things over my head that I said when we were, like, twelve."

She laughs, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"That being said-"

She stiffens.

In response, he wraps his arm back around her and pulls her tight against his side. "That being said," he repeats, "if you keep pulling stunts like today, our partnership may not be able to last much longer." He chuckles at her wounded expression.

"I'm talking about we won't be able to fight together if you get yourself killed, stupid. I'm not going anywhere."

She hides her face in his shoulder once more, but this time to hide how wide her grin has become.

Soul can feel it though.

"Besides," he shrugs, "I can't leave anyway. Where would I go? Blair still owes me some money, and I've just _finally_ gotten my room to exactly how I want it and-"

He's cut off by Maka's coffee table edition of the encyclopedia coming into contact with his cranium.

"Way to ruin a moment, ass."

He only laughs, rubbing the already forming knot on his head as he now pulls his meister flush against his side with both arms. "As if you would want me any other way."

* * *

Even after their much needed heart to heart over the weekend, Monday morning still inevitably had to rear it's ugly head, meaning school. Though, much to Maka's surprise, the whispers of jealous fangirls and glares from envious meisters didn't bother her so much this time. However, it was still nice to see them advert their gaze and shut up once Soul had glared at them, but then the white-haired boy surprised her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in the direction of class, and she wondered why this time his touch felt different.

She wondered why it made her heart stutter.

* * *

**Nooooo promises since I'm such crap when it comes to deadlines, but fingers crossed for a new chapter fic coming soon!**


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